diately, and possibly of compassion, in the course of a few months; and the circumstance of his being here, or, indeed, anywhere in Europe, would contribute to keep up a certain degree of ferment in France.

"Since I wrote to you last, Lord Melville and myself have conversed with Mr. Barrow on the subject, and he decidedly recommends St. Helena as the place in the world the best calculated for the confinement of such a person. There is a very fine citadel there, in which he might reside. The situation is particularly healthy. There is only one place in the circuit of the island where ships can anchor, and we have the power of excluding neutral vessels altogether, if we should think it necessary. At such a distance and in such a place, all intrigue would be impossible; and, being withdrawn so far from the European world, he would very soon be forgotten."

On the 28th he wrote: "St. Helena is perhaps the only place in the world from which neutrals can be excluded without any material inconvenience."1

In England Napoleon would have been too near to France; his presence there, "or indeed anywhere in Europe, would contribute to keep up a certain degree of ferment in France' and Europe; and it was a great advantage to be able to exclude neutral vessels from the place of his detention.

On the 24th July Castlereagh wrote from Paris, in answer to Liverpool, that he believed the Allies would make no difficulty about leaving the custody of Napoleon to England. When this reply was received the final decision was taken, and Sir Henry Bunbury was sent with it to Plymouth. The plenipotentiaries of Austria, Russia, and Prussia, at Paris, accepted the British suggestion, almost without a discussion. They demanded permission to send Commissioners to represent each Power, and on the 2nd August, 1815, a Convention was signed regulating the conditions of the captivity.

1 Castlereagh's Letters, 3rd series, vol. ii, pp. 434, 439.

From an engraving by C. Turner after the painting by J. Eastlake, afterwards President of the Royal Academy

Napoleon was to be the prisoner of all the Allies, who would send Commissioners to St. Helena, but the custody of his person was confided to England.

Napoleon did not seem to be prostrated by the news of his fate. He appeared at the gangway as usual, to show himself to the spectators, and in his talk at dinner he gave no signs of dejection. His followers were in a state of consternation. None of them had suspected they were to be exiled to a small island in the South Atlantic, perhaps for the remainder of their lives. Even Bertrand for some time hesitated, while his wife openly declared that she would never go to St. Helena, and appealed to him to support her views. When he finally refused, she lost her self-control, and in a fit of frenzy tried to jump out of the window into the sea, but was caught hold of by Montholon, who had observed her intention; there followed an attack of hysterics, followed by a day in bed, when she abused Napoleon roundly for his selfishness. "If his ends are served," she said, "he does not care what becomes of other people."

The Montholons behaved with more politeness to their master. Madame complained merely that as she had supposed they would be allowed to land in England—either to remain, or as a stage on the way to America-she had not brought a sufficient supply of clothes, having intended to obtain what she required in London.

Las Cases, who had never doubted that they would be permitted to remain in England, was the most disappointed of all. He had boasted that he understood the English nation and could guarantee the cordiality of their welcome. St. Helena was a terrible shock. He writes, on hearing the

news:

"Never can I depict the effect of these terrible words! A cold sweat overspread my whole frame: it was an unexpected sentence of death. Unpitying executioners had seized me: I was torn from all that attached me to life. I extended my arms sorrowfully towards those who were dear to me, but

in vain my fate was inevitable." "It turned my hair grey." And again: “Our situation had now become truly frightful; our sufferings beyond every power of description; our existence was about to cease with regard to Europe, our country, families, and friends, as well as our enjoyments and habits. It is true, we were not forced to follow the Emperor; but our choice was that of martyrs; the question was a renunciation of faith, or death." When Napoleon asked whether he was prepared to go with him, Las Cases, while protesting his devotion, allowed himself to observe that "there were a great many of us round his person, while only three were permitted to go. As some people," he said, "considered it a crime in me to leave my family, it was necessary with regard to the latter, and my own conscience, to know that I could be useful and agreeable to him-that, in fact, I required to be chosen." It may be concluded that if Napoleon had not selected him he would have rejoiced.

Napoleon kept stating in the most positive manner, "Je n'irais pas à Ste-Hélène," and declined to name those who were to go with him, but he asked Maitland many questions about the island, its size and climate, and the feasibility of taking horse exercise. He can have had little hope of any change in the Government's decision, especially when it was known that the Allies at Paris had expressed instant agreement.

The voyage was to be made in the Northumberland, the Bellerophon being unfit for the voyage. She carried the flag of Rear-Admiral Sir George Cockburn, who had been appointed Naval Commander-in-Chief of the Cape and St. Helena station. While the Northumberland was being prepared for the voyage, efforts were made by English sympathizers with Napoleon to set the law in motion on his behalf. A well-known barrister, Capel Lofft, applied for a writ of Habeas Corpus, but it was held that no such writ would apply. Then a subpoena duces tecum was obtained from the Court of Queen's Bench, for Napoleon to be brought before